The Drive to Meet Our Surrogate

As we drove the 10-hour drive to Amarillo to meet April, the woman who might carry our child, we wondered what we would find. We had literally only spoken to her for the first time two days earlier. We are very cautious, despite jumping in a car to go meet someone we barely knew, so we did text some friends the address where we were going—just in case. When we arrived at her house, we walked in and were welcomed by her mother, husband and three sons. This was a great sign because “they” always tell you to make sure your surrogate has the support of their family and those around them. Her youngest son ran over as soon as we walked in and asked us if we wanted to play. We knew this was going to be okay.

After going through the usual kind of questions when you first meet someone, there was a momentary lull in the conversation. Her mother jumped right in and said what has now become one of my favorite stories. She said with a slight west Texas accent, “You know. We were talkin’ before you got here, and we’d really rather see this baby go to a gay couple. You never see on the news that a gay couple drowned their baby in the bathtub.” We didn’t exactly know how to respond so we just said, “no, m’am. We definitely won’t do that.” She was a dear, sweet woman, as was the whole family.

That night, we went back to the hotel and talked about how happy we were that we found April. She was perfect. She was intelligent, beautiful (not that it matters since this was a gestational surrogacy, which means she would be carrying the baby, not contributing genetic material), friendly, and didn’t smoke or drink. When we logged on the Internet, we saw a friend request from her on Facebook. Michael, who lives out his life on Facebook, accepted and then thought, “Oh no!” He had been sharing our journey on Facebook for his family and friends on the East and West Coast, including writing about us going to Amarillo. In these posts he referred to her as “the Oven” (as in the bun in the oven). He immediately texted her and said that he hoped that didn’t offend her that he had been referring to her as “the Oven.” She quickly retorted, “I just hope it doesn’t offend you that I refer to myself as the host to your parasite.” We busted out laughing. We were more certain than ever that she was the right person to carry our child(ren).

The next day, we went to lunch with her and asked the question. “So, we know we just met face-to-face for the first time yesterday, but we are definitely interested in moving forward…if you are, we mean.” We held our breath just hoping that she felt about us the way we felt about her. It was just like the moment you first tell the person you’ve been dating that you love them—hoping they say it back. She did. “Oh, I definitely want to move forward as well. Y’all are hilarious, and I think you’ll make great parents.”

Just like that, we had our doctor, egg donor and surrogate all decided. There were a few things to iron out in writing with all the parties involved, since you always want to have any contracts in place prior to the exchange of any genetic material. Other than that, we made the 10-hour return drive to Houston, beaming from ear to ear with confidence that in a little more than nine months, we would be holding our child(ren) in our arms.